


We Made It Out Of Love

by annabagnell



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Cunnilingus, Futa, Futalock, Futanari, M/M, Male Lactation, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 12:05:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1080800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabagnell/pseuds/annabagnell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock laid John back onto the mattress, watching the translucent purple teddy slide back and reveal the curve of his belly. The belly where their baby was growing, hardly more than a little tum right now but soon, Sherlock knew, he’d watch John’s belly round out even more, growing full of their baby.</p><p>Based on this artwork by aiwa-sensei (http://aiwa-sensei.tumblr.com/post/69812693799/happy-birthday-thea-some-nsfw-futalock-for-my)</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Made It Out Of Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aiwa-sensei](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=aiwa-sensei), [daleked](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daleked/gifts).
  * Inspired by [nsfw futalock](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/32209) by Aiwa-Sensei. 



> I saw this beautiful artwork by the amazing aiwa-sensei (http://aiwa-sensei.tumblr.com/post/69812693799/happy-birthday-thea-some-nsfw-futalock-for-my) and knew I needed to write a fic to go with it. I've been in the mood for sappy, schmoopy, loving porn - the making love, not fucking sort of porn. 
> 
> Might be getting out of my funk, y'all.

Sherlock laid John back onto the mattress, watching the translucent purple teddy slide back and reveal the curve of his belly. The belly where their baby was growing, hardly more than a little tum right now but soon, Sherlock knew, he’d watch John’s belly round out even more, growing full of their baby. 

 

John’s smile was small but his eyes were bright, watching Sherlock as his gaze roved all up and down John’s body until finally he climbed onto the mattress as well, slotting one leg between John’s thighs and caging him with his arms. He ducked down to kiss John’s neck as he settled over him, one hand bracing himself beside John’s head and the other sliding down to cup a breast. The flesh was tender under his hands, just now beginning to swell with milk, but the roundness was enhanced by the half-cup bra John had bought - a set, he said, along with the panties and teddy. A set that Sherlock hoped he’d use more often in the coming months. 

 

As Sherlock moved down John’s body, both hands running along his sides, John giggled, a sweet sound that made Sherlock smile in return. “Tickles,” John said, his hand pushing weakly at the fingers Sherlock was brushing over his hipbone. Sherlock cocked an eyebrow and repeated the motion, and John laughed again, batting at the offending digits. Soon they were both laughing, John twitching and trying to scoot away from Sherlock’s fingers as they tickled all the soft, fleshy parts of John’s torso. 

 

Sherlock finally gave in, dropping his head to rest his cheek on John’s small belly. “Baby,” he murmured, smiling as John’s fingers threaded through his curls and stroked. “Our baby,” he repeated, and kissed John’s skin over and over, all across the curve of the small mound. John arched his back, pushing up against Sherlock’s mouth as he reached the elastic band of John’s panties, where the head of John’s prick was stretching the fabric as it fought to be free. 

 

“Please,” came the whispered plea, and Sherlock obliged, sliding his fingers beneath the band of elastic and pulling the thin fabric away from John’s body, shifting his own to slide the garment down and off of John’s thighs. Sherlock was pleased but unsurprised to find that John’s lips were swollen and glistening, hidden away behind his cock, and he parted John’s thighs further to give himself room to lie between them, breath cool against John’s wet skin. 

 

John shook and took several heaving breaths as Sherlock pushed his face against the part between his thighs, nose brushing against the base of John’s cock as his tongue slid between his folds and lapped at his wetness. “God,” he gasped, hands tangling in Sherlock’s curls as the detective lapped and sucked at his femininity before finally focussing his attention on John’s clitoris. 

 

Sherlock kissed the tiny button tenderly, sucking gently and feeling John’s thighs tense and quake in response to the stimulation. Alternating flicks of his tongue and gentle sucking on the nub pulled gasps and moans from John’s lungs, and when Sherlock pulled back to take a quick breath he saw John’s belly, flushed and rounded, heaving in front of his eyes. “Don’t stop,” John begged, his voice ragged, and Sherlock complied, returning his attention to John’s center. 

 

A finger, slick with John’s fluids, pressed into his vagina, crooking upwards and stroking across the rippled flesh of his Gräfenberg spot and sending John into gasping hysterics. John choked out Sherlock’s name once, twice, and barely managed a third try before the sound strangulated and died down, John’s body shaking and twitching as his fluids wetted Sherlock’s hand and chin. 

 

Sherlock pressed one last kiss to John’s sensitized clitoris before pulling away, face damp and eyes blown wide as John panted beneath him, flushed with eyes half-lidded. Sherlock swiped his wrist across his face inelegantly, grinning at John, who gave a weak chuckle in return. “Bra off?” Sherlock asked, and John nodded and sighed, pulling himself up off the mattress just enough to unclasp the garment and toss it, as well as the teddy, aside. 

 

“Your turn,” John told Sherlock, and the detective nodded, laying both hands across the roundness of John’s breasts and cupping the flesh in his large hands. John’s nipples were erect, and the doctor gave small noises of pleasure as Sherlock’s thumbs brushed across the pebbled flesh. “How do you want me?” he asked, one hand reaching up to brush Sherlock’s curls away from his forehead. 

 

“On your back is perfect,” Sherlock replied, and ducked to kiss John slowly before sitting back and turning his attention finally to his aching cock. Already somewhat slick with the fluids it had been leaking, Sherlock nonetheless swiped some of John’s own wetness over his prick before pushing John’s thighs apart once more and wrapping his still vaguely shaky legs around Sherlock’s waist. John helpfully pulled a cushion from the top of the bed and stuffed it beneath his rear, and Sherlock nodded in thanks before carefully pushing in to John’s slick entrance. 

 

John was tight and soaking wet around him, the traces of his last orgasm slicking his passage and making Sherlock’s entry smooth and easy. John sighed and laid both hands across his belly, rubbing the soft swell gently as Sherlock picked up a deep, penetrating rhythm. Sherlock’s eyes fluttered shut as the hands on John’s hips gripped a little harder, pulling him forward so Sherlock could push in deeper. 

 

Sherlock rocked John’s body forward a little with each thrust, the fabric beneath John’s shoulders sliding and shifting each time Sherlock pushed in and pulled out of John’s body. Try as he did, Sherlock couldn’t keep his eyes open the whole time, the sight of John’s gently bouncing breasts and the hands roaming across the swell of his middle almost too much after so long. Finally, with a grunt and a bitten-off cry of John’s name on his lips, Sherlock stilled his hips and came, shuddering as his orgasm rippled through his belly and sent his cock spilling inside John’s body. 

 

As Sherlock eased down onto the mattress beside John, body sweaty with exertion and curls damp against his forehead, John shifted onto his side, grasping Sherlock’s wrist and tugging it to lay against his belly. “We created this,” he murmured, and Sherlock’s fingers twitched, splaying out along the skin possessively. “You and me, we made this, together.” 

 

Sherlock’s eyes flickered down and then back up to meet John’s, pale grey staring into blue, and a smile spread across his lips. “We did,” he responded, leaning forward to touch his forehead to John’s. “We made it out of love.” 


End file.
